


Watch

by withoutaplease



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bondage, Orgasm Denial
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-26
Updated: 2016-01-26
Packaged: 2018-05-16 07:31:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 692
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5819644
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/withoutaplease/pseuds/withoutaplease
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt: I had a lovely thought last nite of Dom!Sam tieing your hands behind you, pulls you to the corner edge of the bed where he's strategically placed a mirror. He sits behind you and makes you watch as he teases and fingers you. Feel free to elaborate.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Watch

It’s a little hard to look, at first.  Not that you’re not turned on, because fuck, there is not a hairs’ breadth of give in the rope looped around your wrists, and Sam looks so goddamn good in his jeans and nothing else, and you can feel his cock stiffening beneath his zipper with your fumbling fingertips.  It’s just that it’s one thing to pant and writhe and beg beneath Sam’s touch, when your inhibitions are forgotten and there’s nothing in the world in that moment except his fingers and his tongue, but it’s quite another to see what you look like when you’re coming apart, exposed and quivering, while he’s watching you, cool and calm and collected.  He spreads your legs apart, wide, and the blush that was already prickling high in your cheeks blossoms bright across your chest, and your heart slams staccato underneath.

Then one of his hands is clenched in the back of your hair, right at the roots, and he’s pulling your head up and facing it forward, and you squeeze your eyes shut in reflex but he’s hissing “Open,” at your ear, and “You’re going to watch,” so you obey.  You open your eyes and he’s staring back at you in the mirror, eyes dark and predatory and appreciative.  “Good,” he whispers, “keep them open,” and then his lips are at your neck, and you see your lips part as you sigh, and your thighs twitch as a flush of heat pools low in your belly. 

The hand that’s in your hair holds firm, while the other skates over your chest.  He brushes his thumb across your pert nipple over and over, until you start to whimper and your hips start to rock, and then he pinches it hard enough to make you yell and pull your wrists against the ropes, holding it for a few seconds before letting go to give your other breast the same treatment.  “Look how wet you are for me,” he says as he releases your nipple and you pant to catch your breath.

He reaches down and slides two fingers through your the folds of your pussy, picking up your slick.  "See?" he says, holding his fingers, shiny with your fluid, up in front of your eyes.  Then he's pushing them into your mouth, and you both watch in the mirror as you suck yourself off them, and when you start to swirl your tongue around them like you're giving him a blow job, his cock twitches in his pants and he grunts against your ear.

He pulls his fingers from your lips with a wet pop, and then they're right back at your pussy, swirling hurried circles around your clit.  You start to moan, and your hips start to buck at the edge if the bed, and your eyes roll back and flutter closed again.  In an instant, his hand is gone and he's pulling your head back sharply, and when you're looking again, he rasps, "Keep watching," at your ear.  You nod, as much as you can with him holding you, and he resumes his spirals around your clit, and you resume your litany of moans.

He doesn't take his eyes off your face in the mirror, as your hips roll and your thighs twitch and your mouth falls open in ecstasy.  Then he's slipping his fingers inside you, heel of his palm grinding hard against your clit, and the tension coils tight and electric at your core.  "Can I come?" you say, you plead really, and he doesn't answer you at first except by picking up the speed of his fingers curling inside you. "Sam, please, can I come?" you beg, writhing wildly now, fingers grasping at his crotch, trying to stave off the orgasm threatening to overtake you.

"No," he says, matter-of-factly, pulling his fingers, drenched, out of your pussy and dropping your head with a slight shove, leaving you wound up and throbbing. He gets up from the bed and moves to stand in front of you, one hand cupping your cheek, the other twisting open the button on his jeans.  "We're just getting started."


End file.
